Whilst in Toronto, I had to decide on my next move. I had no way of checking my bank balance in the UK and to be honest, didn’t really want to know (what usually happens is that a few days after I start to wonder about how my bank balance is holding up, Mum phones me and gives me a “howler” (for all of those Harry Potter fans) about how much money I have spent….). True to form, Mum did inform me that my funds were a bit depleted, however this was a few days later than a this point in time! So not knowing how much money I had, I was going top take a gamble and planned to head for New York and then if my card continued to work, down to my cousin Julian’s who lives in North Carolina. Unfortunately I was unable to contact Julian who I think was on holiday so I decided to stay for another night at the hostel and make a decision the next day.
Staying in hostels is great; you meet all kinds of people from around the world who have their own stories and adventures to share, new friends are made and the offer of accommodation worldwide is an absolute bonus! Anyway on this my last planned night in Toronto my dorm of 6 beds was empty except from me. Then just as I am thinking about what I should do with myself, the door crashes open and five Irish medical students the same age as me walk in talking Irish gibberish (no offence intended)! After a few beers and introductions we talked over where we had all been and I explained that I did not really know where to go and that even though Montreal was the nearest city of interest to me, I had been advised by everyone else that I had met not to go there because the main language there was French and if you were not fluent then the people were not. The Irish soon put me straight and told me that this was a load of rubbish and that as long as you were polite and tried to use my limited French, I would be fine.
The next day arrived and I took off to the bus station to book my ticket to Montreal. The grumpy old lady behind the counter informed me that the journey was seven hours direct. Luckily there was still room on the 23.55 that night, so instead of traveling in the heat of the day (40c) this was perfect, and I would save the cost of another nights accommodation-yippee!
On arrival in Montreal, I had to walk about what felt like 10 miles to the hostel. The time was 08.00 on Saturday morning and I was informed by the nice pretty girl with a French accent that I could not book in until 14.00 and so decided to leave my bags and take a self lead tour of the city. This was the fun part; I was about to find out just how much French I could remember from the first two years at Hedingham School (already looking doubtful), I walked into the first patisserie that I can to and ordered un croissant S.V.P. the woman behind the counter forced a slight smile and replied “we do speak English as well you know”. At this point I realized that maybe I should have listened a bit more in Madam Webster’s class instead of making Prit-stick slices and flicking them on the end of a ruler on to all surfaces around the room, including the ceiling and blackboard, and see if it was still there next week (great fun by the way)!
Walking around downtown Montreal, I was presented with a city that even though was in Canada, felt nothing like any of the other cities that I had been to. The people here were stylish, proud and contrary to what I had herd, nice. I was relived that I had not been let down by the drunk Irish group’s advise, as I had been a bit suspicious prior to leaving Toronto! The city is divided in to different areas and you can get to most places on foot, or take the metro, which is relatively cheap. Somehow I had managed to go to Montréal on the week that the international fireworks competition was taking place. This mean that I was able to see the best firework displays in the world, every other night for free. I had mentioned in my Calgary Stampede entry that the fireworks were good; these were ten times better! My first set of photos from Montréal shows me and the friends I made during my stay: Three German guys who were mad, but really funny, a Japanese girl, a couple of French guys a welsh girl and a mad Scottish girl called Stacey, all together a great crowd!
After just over a week in this great city, I decided that I ought to think about returning to Di’s and finding a job (bearing in mind that by this time I had received my phone call from mum). I managed to get a flight home for the following Wednesday. Unfortunately even though I was going Montreal to Calgary, we had to go via Toronto and get a connecting flight (student farers, student treatment!). the day before, the Air France plane had crashed at Toronto and as a result 500 planes going in and out of the Airport were affected. This was my first experience of grid-lock on the runway! Planes of all sizes appeared to be in a blur of organized chaos. Both of the Airport’s runways also appeared to be in action. This is common in Canada due to amount of space they have to play with, however, the usual operation is that one is used for take-off and the other used for landing. On this occasion it was take off and landing on both runways and the runways crossed in the middle – god, I just hope that the air-traffic controllers were on the ball!!
At the other end of my flight we touched down in Calgary. On arrival to the gate the pilot announced, “welcome to Calgary International Airport, as you may have gathered we have landed, however Air Canada appears not to have provided any baggage handlers or docking staff, so unfortunately we have to sit here on the tarmac until I am able to contact someone". One hour later we are able to dock. This is typical of Calgary; everyone is so laid back that even at the international airport, the country’s carrier manages to miss a plane for an hour!
